They say Yonohara was made by a sword. They say the Order dipped a cold blade into the ocean, and when they pulled it out two perfect drops fell back into the sea, and those drops became the islands of Yonohara. Legends and tales say Yonohara was made by a handful of brave men. Warriors, willing to give their lives for what seems to have become a forgotten word: honour.

Coming from the far north, southward, all of Arren's days blurred together.

He sailed. Alone. Through colossal waves and unruly storms. The tiny raft --tiny in comparison to the scarce ships that Goliath kept to sail when they didn't want to swim-- held together only through Arren's determination alone. He fought the waters to reach the shores of the lands he'd only heard about through stories. Stories his missing mother whisper to him as a youngling.

Food supplies ran short, and eventually out, quickly. Manning a seacraft alone was no small feat, even for a goliath, and staying fueled to fight tidal waves that threatened capsizing wasn't easy either. Arren stocked just enough to make the journey, but not a return trip. That would have to come after he gained his bearings and a name for himself.

He jolted awake, the sun gleaming so brightly it threatened to blind him as he rose from the damp floor of his rickety wooden boat. He shielded his sapphire irises from the menacing rays with his tree trunk of a forearm and scanned the beach he washed up on for any sign of anything around him.

Where am I?

He asked himself, stepping from his raft and onto the dunes. Nothing looked familiar...

The shore his raft landed on, was not far from the main docks of the port, but it was far enough away that he wouldn't be able to see any roads, people or the town that people normally came to. The waves around the Island of the Order were magically altered so that anyone coming in via watercraft would be moved towards the City of Order or one of the many small port towns that were on other locations of the island. But, today, something was off... An oddity in the magic, one that could have been created by the Order, or created by another great power, had altered the waves. This causes Arren's boat to steer off it's normal course and end up on the beach he had awoken to.

For now, everything was normal, his powers, even worked for the most part, something which normally did not happen with anyone in the Order unless they had been granted access to them by the Order themselves.

Not soon after stepping onto the beach, Arren would see someone running towards him from the location the closest town was in. This person in particular was waving their arms and screaming something in Elven that was spoken so loud and fast that even most High Elves wouldn't be able to understand. Soon, more screams would he heard from the village that was far off. A moment later, the running High Elf would start running towards Arren. It was clear to anyone that she was scared.

Unfamiliar lands were a good sign. Even if he didn't know where he'd ended up, it meant that he wasn't anywhere near home. It meant that he was far away from the lands of the Iron Aura and other Goliath clans, as far as he could imagine anyway, and he could adventure without worrying about being recognized.

Arren dropped his arm, taking a small glance at the little boat that he'd come on and deciding to leave it here. Certainly he couldn't carry it around, and it wasn't anything that held any sentimental value to him. He wasn't even sure who it had belonged too.

He was about to grab it out of the water and dismantle it for the wood, possibly to pawn off for anything that could help him, but he become distracted...

"What is that?"

He squinted to see a figure running towards him, flailing their arms wildly in the arm. Goliath logic told him to brace himself for an attack, but the pitch of the figures screams disarmed that instinctive reflex. He couldn't really understand what they were screaming, but they were coming right towards him and the base of their language had the same gutteral influences of goliath native tongue. The hulking behemoth moved to meet them.

"SKELETONS!, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!, THE VILLAGE IS IN DANGER!" She screamed in Common/English, while panting from the running.

Not soon after the woman finished her screaming, a Skeleton could be seen running towards Arren and the woman. In it's hands was a long primitive club, one that looked so dull it wouldn't do much damage at all. As the Skeleton ran, it's bones would chatter and a cold, menacing aura would be felt coming from it.

The woman turned to see the Skeleton coming, and then began running away again, leaving Arren to deal with it, or just let the woman suffer her fate, if there was to be one or not.

The Skeleton, as it approached Arren would begin rapidly swinging the club, and with every swing it would miss. It was if it's aim was VERY bad.

Arren's voice rose with an inquisitive tone, but the answer was delivered to him with the chilly bone rattling of what the woman was afraid of. The bones of a risen dead, something that only certain clans of the far north could wield effectively. Arren had never seen any himself, but he overheard war stories from other Iron Aura that had run ins with them. Usually they boasted about how weak and brittle bones were, something Arren experienced from fighting and cracking them.

"There is not a ne- Hey! Wait!"

Unfortunately, Arren meant to grab hold of the woman to stop her from running, but she slipped away before he could grab her shoulder with his massive hands. He didn't have to time to turn and chase after her because the skeleton was upon him with it's club like weapon. He braced for impact, actively choosing the face the threat for the weapon head on and test the power of a skeleton.

Hm?

Regrettably, the skeleton's fighting spirit didn't quite match it's skill. He couldn't help a smirk forming across his mug, and a hearty laugh escaping his lips. Just like facing the smaller younglings back home!

"Give me that before you hurt yourself."

He screamed, plunging his arm daringly towards the skeleton's flailing club in order to seize hold out it and rip it from the skeleton's hand with enough force to maybe take it's whole arm.

The Skeleton continued to swing at Arren, each shot wildly missing it's mark. That was until Arren countered by grabbing the Skeleton's weapon. As the Skeleton's weapon was grabbed, the Skeleton began chattering as it found itself trapped in the grasp of Arren. Not soon after it was caught, it would free itself by dislocating it's arm from it's body. With great speed, the Skeleton began to run away, heading back towards the village and away from Arren. The arm that Arren now held onto, would begin flailing back and forth, as it trying to find it's body again.

Arren's grip around the club tightened as he jerk it towards himself, but instead of pulling the skeleton closer Arren found himself falling to the ground because of the force of his pull. Surprised, he saw the skeleton scampering away towards the village sans an arm, which Arren happened to be holding onto along with its weapon of choice. Casually, Arren tossed away the club and arm, really only grabbing for it because it was basic strategy to disarm an inexperienced opponent, rather than contend with their unruly and unrefined fighting style.

"Where did that skeleton even come from?"

Arren took a quick glance around as he rose back to his feet, wiping away any sand that clung to his clothes. The woman that had come for help had vanished, and the fleeing Skeleton was his only lead to finding out what was going on. The village on the horizon was probably still in danger, going by what the woman had told him earlier, and that fleeing skeleton was heading that way too. Arren decided to follow, and wasted no time sprinting to quell whatever the situation was.

It wouldn't take long for Arren to get to a path and then to the village. Upon arrival to the village he would see empty street and homes, and no one was in sight. Oddly, there was no damage or people killed either. It seemed the skeletons couldn't affect the landscape, or anyone who wasn't a ranked fighter, and even then, there were limits. It was an odd phenomenon indeed. Upon entering the village in his hurry, two Skeletons, including the one missing an arm would all charge towards Arren, the one in front had a long lance, and the one without an arm had found a shovel and was using it with its only arm. Shortly after arriving in the village, it would begin to rain and cloud over.

From where Arren was, he could see the town centre, which had a fountain, several small shops and some taller two and 3 story buildings. Beyond that was the waterfront and docks. There were skeletons all around, but they hadn't yet noticed Arren.

Arren took in his surrounding as he finally approached the village. It wasn't a large village by any means, but it was sizable especially in comparison to the small camps that the nomadic Iron Aura called home when they weren't at war. He wasn't too far away from the town's center, housing a fountain and several small shops and a couple taller buildings. Pass there were the actual docks that Arren probably would have arrived at, if he hadn't been knocked off course and chose to sleep instead of actually steer his little raft.

It was all he could effectively take in before he was immediately rushed by the skeleton that he had chased away and a uniquely armed friend of his. It was odd to see this new one wielding some sort of pole arm, when his friend had been using a club, but he supposed there were Iron Aura and other Goliath that used different weapons from one another. It wasn't as strange, he guessed, thinking about it in that sense. It was all he could really think about while noticing that the one armed one had armed himself with a ditch digger.

Arren assumed a fighting stance, darting his eyes back and forth between the two attacking skeletons, with his feet spread shoulder length apart and his hands positioned in front of him, open palm, with the left slightly behind the right. Judging by their distance and the length of their weapons, the one with the pole arm was a much larger threat, and also an easier target. If it was as weak as it's counterpart, then it couldn't possibly overpower him if he wanted to take it's pole arm, but he didn't want to make assumptions just yet since these skeletons were foreign and weird to him.

Instead, lunged to take hold of the lance wielding skeletons pole arm just after it's bladed tip, narrowly escaping being stabbed by it by turning his body a small amount to the side. With that slightly turn, he planted his feet deep into the ground and used the generated momentum to try to swing the lance, and it's wielder, into the shovel wielding skeleton that was attacking at the same time. If that was able to work, then he hoped they'd land somewhere within the town square. If there were more skeletons around, he wanted to alarm as many of them as possible so that he could take them all on at the same time.

His Goliath blood was boiling for combat! It was their version of pray and worship, after all.

The Pikeman Skeleton, was no match for the sheer strength of it's target, it had greatly underestimated the guy and charged into battle with a weapon that weighed just as much at it did. In a single motion the Skeleton found himself smashing into the other one that was with him. A moment later, both Skeletons or the remains of them were scattered about the square instantly alerting the other Skeletons. From beyond the town squares fountain/statue and on a balcony above a shop, were 3 skeletons, two on the ground and one on the balcony. Each had long bows and a bunch of arrows. Upon hearing Arren and the Skeletons, they would immediately begin firing volleys of arrows towards his location. As this happened, a Skeleton would run out from the same shop the Skeleton on the balcony was in. In his hands were two Semi-Auto Pistols. Another 4 Skeletons, armed with swords from various countries, would all begin charging straight for Arren. In the far rear, a more powerful, 7th Rank Skeleton was standing by the docks, and with each Skeleton destroyed, he would place a small seal on each bone that was left over.

Arren's momentum carried him all the way around so that once he tossed the skeleton pikeman, and his buddy, he was also facing the town square. Just in time to see the army of skeleton warriors that had infested, but not really harmed, the town in question. Immediately, he kind of regretted the choice to make as much noise as possible, but he couldn't help cracking a nervous smile. While he was shunned for being slightly more... thoughtful than other Iron Aura, he could still bite off much more than he could ever chew. Seeing the... 9 skeletons that stood against him didn't discourage his simple-minded fervor of bravery, however, all it did was prove to encourage him. Encourage him to the point that a thick blue line of "warpaint" spread itself from one cheek, across his nose, and to the other cheek.

Arren wasn't necessarily sure which skeletons he should single out for combat. While common sense said the swordsmen were probably going to be the biggest threat, in his mind at least, the bowmen could still present a problem with their constant aerial support. However the two that caught Arren's attention the most were the skeleton that hung back at the docks, avoiding direct conflict, and the other that came out of a shop armed with strange weapons that he had never seen before. Certainly, they were the larger threats. He was confident he could bum rush through the swordsman and get hold of the one with the strange weaponry, and he'd use that one to engage the one further away. He nodded with assertion.

"The Iron Aura Burns Bright!"

Arren bellowed, inspiring confidence in himself and charging forward, further into the square. He remembered his father's words when it came to ranged weaponry, specifically bows and arrows, which were that he should never retreat backwards and instead charge forward. It presented a greater chance that the arrows would arc over you, and any that fell short Arren hoped wouldn't be able to pierce his thick Goliath skin. He presented his shoulder as he charged, bracing himself to run through the formation of the various swordsmen skeletons, with a wild shoulder charge and focused on getting to the one dual wielding those strange metal weapons. If he could, he'd take it from there.

Upon charging forwards, each of the 4 Skeletons would continue their charge, unaware of Arren's size and weight. While they each had swords, most of them were too dull and worn down to be of any decent use. Just like the skeletons before, these were extremely weak and upon being run down, would burst into bones that would fly in all directions. As for the arrows that were being volleyed, they would do just as Arren predicted they would. Each arrow would arc over his path, landing just beyond where he was running. Unluckily for the skeletons who were firing them, thier supply of arrows was short. A moment after they ran out of them, they like thier buddies before, would charge for Arren, holding the bow in hand ready to use it as a Melee weapon. While they charged, the Skeleton with the two Semi-Auto pistols would begin firing in Arren's direction. Little care would be put into his shots, so little care that a few missed Arren directly, while another shot or two would hit his charging Skeleton brethren. The skeleton on top the balcony that was firing the bow, would drop the bow and recklessly, begin moving through the shop he was inside in an attempt to get outside where the action was.

The skeleton down by the docks, made no attempt at all to move into battle, he just stayed where he was casting his magical spell on any bones that dropped to the ground.

Arren felt himself being carried much farther than he had originally anticipated, like there had been little to no resistance to his reckless charge. He had tossed all his weight forward, expecting the skeletons to be much stronger than they were, and found himself eating dirt as he hit the ground with a heavy thud right at the feet of the skeleton wielding those strange weapons. He sat up, quickly, trying to salvage the... advantage he had? Rising to his feet slowly before the skeleton like an ominous omen, having a height and build that cast a dark shadow over the undead warrior.

Arren was... confused. It showed in his face. While he had never seen them, there were warriors in the Iron Aura that spoke of undead warriors and how mighty they were. He expected that these were the same type, the walkers of the northern tundra, but these skeletons had been nothing but unexceptional. They're like younglings, small and frail. He, really, didn't find any joy in beating on them, knew that his gods would not smile favorably on this battle, and he would gain no boon from the Iroas of Victory if he was, indeed, victorious.

Still, they had posed their threat first, he guessed, and he had to put them down, as was the Goliath way. With the knowledge that they were so frail, Arren grabbed hold of the skeleton in front of him as he intended to do and tossed it over his shoulder towards the one that was remaining out of conflict at the docks. He was under the assumption that that skeleton too was just as weak as these, so the collision should handle them both, but he approached the docks at a brisk pace just in case.

The skeleton, to it's surprise found itself being thrown towards the docks with great force, so much so that it's body began to fall apart in mid flight. As it did this, it's bones would fall under the spell of the Skeleton at the docks. By now, there were skeletal bones all around the small village, which was perfect for what was about to happen.

A moment later, at about the same time Arren would reach the docks, every bone in the village would begin floating upwards from the ground. With speed equal to a javelin toss, each bone would shoot directly towards the Skeleton at the docks. Some bones would even blast towards Arren if he happened to be in their path towards the Skeleton controlling them. Other than this bone calling, the Skeleton made no attempt to draw any weapons or use any visible abilities.

Arren's brisk jog morphed into a sprint and then a blind blitz towards the skeleton at the docks. He wasn't charged with fury, not yet, but his blood still boiled for battle, even if it would earn him no favor of his gods. There was only one opponent left, and Arren was giddy with glee at seeing if this skeleton was, at the very least, more of a challenge than the younglings that he'd callously tossed aside.

With his arms out to his sides, he came barreling towards the skeleton to sweep it up in his forward momentum and pummel it with a body slam! He felt a sharp pain in his back, the few bones luck enough to be traveling the same path as him piercing his tough hide, but not deep enough to shake him from his battle lust or grievously wound him.